


Routine

by meat



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: (it's entirely consensual), Alternate Universe - Human, Feeding Kink, Force-Feeding, M/M, Name-Calling, Size Kink, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8042296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meat/pseuds/meat
Summary: Red and Maximus have fallen into a routine.





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> this is some advanced level kink so if you're just here for the pairing i would maybe turn back now. seriously.

Over the course of Maximus and Red’s relationship, they had fallen into something of a routine. Max would wake up to Red making breakfast in the morning, they would sit and chat with one another while properly waking up, and then they would kiss and go their separate ways for the day. Although, even reduced to the simplest of descriptions, some parts of their routine stood out more than others.

Maximus’s body still felt weighed down by sleep as he stretched. The sole light source in his and Red’s shared room- a dim lamp on the dresser taking over for an irreparably shorted-out ceiling light- had been switched on, offering him his first sign that Red was already busy on the first part of their routine. It seemed to be the _only_ sign, as of yet; there was no trace of the smell that usually accompanied Red’s cooking. Max’s body took its time acclimating to the feeling of wakefulness, before he finally gave in to the weight pulling his eyelids shut again. To the sound of rain falling outside, Maximus pulled the comforter back around himself and went back asleep.

“-morning.”

Before he could actually register what had happened, Maximus was already covering his face and grumbling indistinctly. Even with the unmistakeable weight of Red sitting beside him, Max was still slow to uncover his face and fully take in the situation. Red’s faint smile as he did so, however, was enough motivation for him to try a verbal response.

“Wh’ time is it?”

His smile only grew as he watched the smell of breakfast finally hit Max. His partner all but jolted awake, instantly revitalized once he realized that he had a reason to actually be awake at all. Still, Red waited to answer his question before moving onto more pressing matters.

“It’s only 8. Before you ask, I got rained out of work. We might lose power- oh, here, sit up-” Red assisted Max is leaning against a ‘backboard’ of pillows, reclined enough that he was still technically lying down but so that he’d be able to eat safely. Not that he really needed the help, but it was a kind gesture. “I fixed breakfast for myself an hour ago. Yours is fresh, though.”

“Thanks.” Max was still too groggy to really question anything his partner was saying, but one thing at least had stood out. He had to muffle a yawn as he tried to sneak a look at just how much Red had brought out for him- though apparently, Red had thought that part through in advance. Red’s square, broad-shouldered body blocked Max’s view of anything aside from the plate he’d set in front of Max. Reaching the mental equivalent of a shrug, Maximus reached for his plate and dug in.

He almost felt bad watching Red absently flip channels on their bedroom TV as he ripped apart a cinnamon roll the size of his fist- keeping in mind, of course, that he was a whole foot taller than Red, meaning that ‘his fist’ may not have been such a universal method of measurement. Max forwent a fork, ripping his food into pieces by hand and trying to eat them in the least messy way possible. Some icing still ended up smearing over his hands and the corners of his mouth, and trying to wipe it off only made him feel sticky as he spoke again.

“Do you want any?”

“Hmm?” It was early enough in the day that the only things on television currently seemed to be George Lopez and animal documentaries, and Red had apparently chosen the latter. A litter of fluffy kittens mewled onscreen as Red turned to respond, “Oh, no thanks. This is all yours, remember?”

“I just…” Max grabbed his fork, already prepared to dig back into whatever Red had piled onto his plate. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Max nodded. He’d started to wake up a bit more by this point, and the enormity of what he’d been presented with had started to really set in. Scrambled eggs, ham, a few slices of bacon, four folded pancakes, a cinnamon roll (already gone), and even more french toast stared up from his plate; though admittedly, it wasn’t as daunting as it should have been. The hand that his partner laid idly against his own stomach only drew Max’s attention to how much they’d really changed over the past few months. Red’s stomach hung over the waistband of his shorts, and his thicker fingers looked rather at home against the soft flesh there. His recent habits of overeating showed clearly in the rounded edges of his face, in the way that he was content to just sit cross-legged and do nothing rather than start working on chores after cooking. Max absently started chewing another slice of french toast as he inspected his own body.

He had been subject to his own fair share of changes, though maybe not quite as much as Red. Red was already a bit chubby to begin with, and being nearly a foot and a half shorter than Maximus, he naturally showed it a bit better than Max would. Maximus himself was still toned in some places, his muscle not completely faded under a thickening layer of fat that had already seen him hit the 300 mark a few months ago; after that point, Max had just stopped counting. Red was more secretive about the exact numbers surrounding his own weight, but he had to have been in the mid-200s by this point. They had each other to thank, and there was really no sarcasm behind ‘thank’, there. He loved Red’s encouragement to keep going, just as much as Red loved watching him eat and loved stuffing himself, too.

It came as no surprise when Max reached for another piece of french toast and came up empty-handed. He watched Red as he continued to eat, even striking up a light conversation about pets as more food disappeared off his plate. Eggs, bacon, and ham all went without a hitch, even the relatively dry (but still plenty thick) pancakes. As Max cleaned his plate, Red turned without getting up, handing him a tall glass of orange juice from over his shoulder while still skillfully blocking the view of just how much food he had brought in.

“Here. I probably should have given you this before, sorry.”

Max accepted the outstretched drink, even as he raised one thick eyebrow in a show of curiosity. He tried to sit up but was swiftly- but lovingly, nonetheless- pushed back against the bed.

“Just drink some- you need it, ok?” Red smiled again at him as Max did as he was told, even if drinking was slightly awkward in this position. Orange juice joined the sticky icing at the corners of his mouth as he drank, and Red actually chuckled when he saw that he had the equivalent of an orange milk mustache, to boot. Maximus, however, wasn’t chuckling at Red’s most recent action.

Red had replaced Max’s cleared plate with another full one, this time so tightly packed with food that it seemed to be hanging off the edges. Sausages, hashbrowns, sliced fruit, sticky buns, more bacon, and even more folded pancakes all competed for space on the plate. Maximus could barely even believe what he was seeing, this time, and a discontented growl from his stomach seemed to voice his opinion of the excessive food for him. He wasn’t full, but considering that he’d only been able to finish half of his last plate the first time Red had prepared something similar for him, it was still a decent feat. He had finished- and would finish- much more than this. But none of that detracted from the shock of having more handed to him without warning.

“I know you’re not finished.”

“That’s not really my choice, is it?” Maximus’s stomach protested again as the smell of sticky buns and warm, greasy pork hit him. Red gave him a playfully knowing look. Max didn’t argue, instead handing back his glass and grabbing a forkful of hashbrowns to dig right back in.

Muted commercials ran on the television, but Red’s attention seemed to be focused entirely on the display that Maximus had inadvertently presented for him. Being watched, at least, gave Max motivation to push onwards despite his nearly-full stomach. He tried to focus on anything but Red’s face- the silent television, the straining seams of Red’s pants, even the way Red’s hips seemed to rock forwards into his own lap. If he didn’t know better- and, well, maybe he didn’t after all- Maximus might have assumed…

“You’re getting wet from this.” His words were muffled by a mouthful of potatoes, but they seemed to be well-received regardless- it might even have made things go over better. Red bit his lip.

“I’m getting there.”

It was Maximus’s turn to chuckle. He added a bit of metaphorical flourish as he ate, intentionally drawing out the motion of putting food in his mouth and even going so far as licking stray grease off the side of his fork. Red watched him avidly, evidently still enjoying the show.

“Stop,” Red chewed his upper lip, looking at Maximus like he was planning out what next to say. Max obeyed without a hitch. “Eat the next part with your hands.”

He didn’t argue. The rest of the hashbrowns went by without ceremony, though Red clearly grew more aroused as he watched Max almost-but-not-quite rush to finish them. If he’d been asked, Maximus wouldn’t have denied the arousal that had begun to affect him, too; his eyes still traced over the seams of Red’s clothing, absolutely stuffed as tight as possible without ripping, and a very distinctive twingeing feeling found him as he inspected the slight tear along Red’s inner thigh. He had always admired Red’s physical softness, even before...well, before all of _this_. It was with his eyes firmly locked on bright, jagged stretch marks that Maximus finished his first portion of the plate.

“Good job,” Red sounded almost breathless. Red turned to face Max, still cross-legged, but definitely much more mindful of his arousal than before. The television had been switched off, leaving them alone with just the views of one another.

Slickness was an immediate obstacle as Max picked up the first slice of fruit. An uncomfortable heaviness settled in the back of his throat, and it took more effort than he was proud of to down the first slice of watermelon. Syrup from the pancakes- something he was incredibly gracious to be provided with, this time around- had stained the edges, adding to the inherent slickness but at the same time giving the fruit a very odd, contrasting flavor that Max wasn’t used to. Red’s eyes seemed to dart over Max’s entire body, though it was unclear if this was caused by his usual concern or if it was just a byproduct of his arousal.

Maximus watched thick thighs quiver in front of him as Red rocked slightly on his knee, grinding his sex against his own leg in apparent anticipation. Maximus’ own pants felt much tighter than they had when he’d woken up, and he knew that his eating habits weren’t entirely to blame for that.

A few cubes of pineapple went next, then cantaloupe. There was hardly any left when he realized that he was reaching something of a plateau- fullness kept him from really putting on a show, and his arousal made it more difficult to focus on his task.

“Can I, uh- the drink-” Red seemed to pick up on what he was saying, handing Max the glass of orange juice once again. Max tried to drink slowly as the heavy feeling returned at the back of his throat, but Red seemed to have different ideas.

“Are you getting full?”

“Yeah, I...do you want the rest?”

Red smirked. One of his hands traced over the outline of Max’s thigh, before Red pulled the comforter off of him to actually expose him. Red moved to straddle his partner, gentleness forgotten as he rested the bulk of his weight on Max’s full stomach. He was careful not to spill the contents of the plate as he shifted it to the side, not out of reach but no longer in danger of being turned over. Max winced.

“Did I say you could stop?”

“No,” Maximus groaned, apparently egging Red on as the smaller of the two men started to rub small circles on his swollen stomach.

“And is your plate empty?”

“It’s- it’s not.”

“Then are you done eating?”

“No.”

An involuntary yelp left Max as Red grabbed his stomach, squeezing him tightly. His stomach already felt sore from the strain of eating, but this was overwhelming. It wasn’t new to him- not to either of them- but he had at least come to expect a warning before launching into something this extreme.

“Finish what you were eating.”

Red answered Max’s next question before he could even ask it, shoving the plate closer to his partner and then sitting back to watch him continue. Again, their combined arousal served as a distraction to Max as he tried to eat. The cold slickness of Red’s arousal led Max into perverted thoughts about similarities between his partner and the food he was still shoving into his mouth- namely, thoughts along the lines of ‘I wonder if I can get a taste of him, too’.

Maximus was panting as he finished the last of the fruit. His stomach was starting to ache in a way that went deeper than Red’s physical taunts, and without any prior warning of an upcoming stuffing like this, he lacked the leeway that preparation would have given him.

“I can’t keep going.”

Maximus moaned in a mix of pain and desperate anticipation of release as Red pressed a palm firmly against the tightest part of his stomach.

“So you’re giving up?”

“I-” Red started to squeeze him with his thighs, smiling all the while he did so. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“ _Yes_!”

Red shifted forwards so that his weight settled more on Max’s chest. He leaned across Max to set the glass he still held onto their bedside table, but having roughly 240+ pounds resting on his lungs wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling to experience. Max gasped as Red settled back into a better position, but nearly as soon as he’d opened his mouth, he was unable to breath again.

A forkful of sausage was shoved into his mouth, leaving no room for protest. Max chewed obediently, even as he could feel his stomach rebelling before he’d even swallowed. Grease dripped down the corner of his mouth and continued to trail down his chin, but Red was insistent; one thick hand caressed Max’s jaw as he ate, acting as encouragement if he decided to stop before Red decided he was ready. Again, this was nothing new to either of them- they both knew the rules well by now. Maximus was reluctant to open his mouth again after he’d finished the first, but gentle stroking from Red encouraged him.

“You’re not that full after all, are you? You’re just whining. Although,” Maximus whimpered as Red ground down against him, trying to keep his mouth closed despite the overwhelming urge to groan in pleasure. “I don’t see why a fat pig like you would turn down more food, anyways.”

He couldn’t help but buck his hips up against Red’s bulk, beyond desperate for friction. It took more difficulty to swallow the food in his mouth, this time, but he was still relatively compliant as it went down. Max panted as he opened his mouth for more, even as his stomach grumbled in very clear protest. Red moved the hand at Max’s jaw downwards temporarily to continue rubbing his stomach until the noises seemed to pass.

“Good boy. See how much faster this goes when you let me take over?”

The mocking tone that Red had seemingly started to adapt did not go unnoticed, but regardless, Red was still right. The rest of the sausages passed with relatively little protesting, even if it had taken a bit of coaxing on the last piece. Red was back to holding Max’s jaw as they moved onto the bacon.

“Open up for me, alright?”

Max was ready to comply up until the heaviness in his throat grew unbearable. He shook his head, lips pursed tightly and stomach gurgling in abject disapproval. Red sighed in- what Max assumed was- mock disapproval. Red leaned forwards again so that the air was pressed out of Max’s chest, but that wasn’t all he intended to do; Red kissed up the side of Max’s neck so that he shuddered, and as Red’s hand trailed down to rub at an entirely new area, Maximus couldn’t help but open his mouth in a declaration of pleasure.

“This is why we don’t- _ngh-_ try to fight back.” Red shoved as much of the bacon into Max’s mouth at once as he physically could without immediately choking him. He forced his partner’s jaw into a chewing motion until the pain behind the movement was apparently too much, and Max finally gave in to continue it by himself. He felt like he was going impossibly slow this time, and that didn’t go unnoticed, either. Red’s ‘encouragement’ to pick up the pace was a sharp pinch to the side, but despite the pain (or maybe because of it), Max continued. The pleading look that Max gave him as he finished was enough to break Red’s own composure; he shuddered, grinding slightly against Maximus before he came back to himself.

The next words out of Red’s mouth were filled with retaliatory venom, and a hell of a lot of it:

“C’mon, fatass. I know the next part is your favorite. You must _love_ getting messy, huh? Fucking slob,” The sticky bun shoved into his mouth combined with the weight of Red’s words was enough to make Maximus tear up in overexertion. Syrup-soaked and slathered in honey, it left his mouth filthier than the words still freely flowing from Red. “Not even fighting back anymore. Just what I thought.” The hand that moved between his body and his jaw had settled back on the former, stroking along Maximus’s still-clothed inner thigh. Maximus groaned and whined around the bun in his mouth, even as every part of his body seemed to be screaming at him to stop.

Red rubbed deliberately closer to Max’s cock, amping up the mocking tone of his voice. “Aww, does piggy like that? You want another?” Max nodded furiously, opening his mouth again before he’d even fully swallowed the first. “Just keep going, baby. Keep eating and getting fatter for me, just like I know you want to. Oh, don’t whine, here- just keep going ‘til I tell you to stop.”

They had considerably slowed by the point that they reached the last item on the plate. The pancakes- folded and stacked against one another, soaked in syrup for however long they’d actually been at this and starting to fall apart- had become a staple of their ‘sessions’. Red had even managed to fit them into dinner, once, but maple syrup and steak sauce weren’t exactly the best combination. They were one of Max’s absolute favorites, but today, there was just one problem: Max had never actually eaten this much before trying to eat pancakes, too.

This time, Red was as considerate as he could possibly be as he forced Max’s jaw back open. He took his time in cutting them up into slightly more edible chunks before delivering the first heaping forkful into Max’s mouth, and the difference paid off. Maximus whimpered whorishly around the first bite, and all of the stomach cramps he’d ever experienced _combined_ couldn’t have pulled his lips off of the fork. He swallowed heavily, syrup joining the mess on his face (and, by now, also on his chin and chest as the more liquid food items had continued to dribble). Red couldn’t restrain himself from grinding on Max’s straining cock, both of their pants soaked in precum and sweat.

“Good job, Max. You’re being such a good pig for me. It only took you this long to give in, didn’t it? Good boy,” A litany of half-mocking praise continued to fall out of Red’s lips, but as they neared the end of the plate, he could no longer hold himself back from what they both knew to be inevitable. Red set the fork down gently, having to use both hands to shimmy his way out of his once-loose pajama bottoms. Stretch-marked thighs spilled out of his underwear and all but burst free as he removed those, too, and it was with a tiny kiss pressed to the top of Max’s overfull stomach that Red repeated the action on him. For the first time in awhile, Maximus was able to speak up:

“You have to- uh- do it for me-”

“I know.”

The informality between them betrayed nothing about how excited they both were. Maximus could barely refrain from cumming as soon as Red re-straddled him, but as Red began to fuck himself on his partner’s comparatively oversized cock, it became harder and harder to resist.

Maximus did what he could to contribute, but between being so stuffed that he couldn’t lift himself properly and being so exhausted that he couldn’t care to try, he settled for the feeling of Red’s stretched-out pussy taking him as deeply as he could go without harming himself. Max finally lifted his arms to hold onto his partner, and again the wind was knocked out of him as Red shifted forwards into his hold. This time, though, it felt...well, quite bluntly, it felt fucking amazing. He gripped one of Red’s hips hard enough to bruise the soft flesh that met him there, and the other was left with faint claw marks as Red decided to finish feeding Max while still fucking himself in that position.

“Can- can you hold on for another minute?” Red’s voice cracked, any mockery drained out of it.

“ _Uhh-_ h-hurry, please-”

“Max-”

Red doubled down, tightening as much as he could and increasing his pace as much as his body would allow. Max could do nothing but lay back with a moan and let him do it, until finally, Maximus came inside his partner with the last bit of energy he had left to give. Red followed shortly, Max’s name still heavy on his tongue from being repeated countlessly throughout his own orgasm.

With Red’s own last bit of energy, he pulled himself off, collapsing with a heavy noise next to his partner on the bed. He felt exhausted but buzzing with energy at the same time. It was a good feeling, if not one that might’ve made him seem a bit insatiable to someone who didn’t know him well. Max was barely staying awake next to him.

“Can we just...shower when we wake up?”

Red mumbled his response into the side of Max’s neck. “I have to make dinner at four.”

“You have plans?”

Red pressed a kiss to Max’s warm, slightly-sticky cheek. “You bet.”

**Author's Note:**

> yes red alert is trans in this


End file.
